A Deal Beyond Great

The mailman just brought me an offer from a large bank offering a great (according to them) deal.  They will pay me 0.90% if I open a money market account.  Humm.  Now let me check that out.  That means if I invest a hundred dollars with them, after a year, they will pay me 90 cents.  When I read the fine print, in order to get this deal, I have to invest a minimum of 10,000 dollars.  That means after a year I would have the overwhelming additional sum of      90 dollars.   After you return your tithe and tax on the growth you are left with about 60 dollars.

The thing that bothers me is being treated like a dolt when they tell me this is a great offer.  It isn’t even a good offer.  They know that.  So why don’t they approach us with truth.  They could say, “This is the best we can offer.”  We understand.  Prime rates are extremely low.

What I so love about God’s offer to us:  number one, it is really great.  Number two, it is the truth.  Invest your life with Jesus and the reward will be out of this world.  You will have an eternity of growth on your investment, which means you will someday be beyond a trillionaire in the value of the asset that you will.  When we invest in the bank we can’t use the money; it is tied up.  When we invest with Jesus we get to use all our talents as they grow.  As a matter of fact it is using them that stimulates the growth.   Now this is a deal beyond great.

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 8, 2016

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

The Entrance to the Exit

“Well blow me down.”  Popeye did not say, “I is what I is.”  He said, “I yam what I yam.”  My thanks to the many aficionados of classical literature that pointed out my misquoting the world’s most famous sailorman.  Since we are thinking of Popeye, please indulge me and allow me the luxury of sharing one of my favorite Popeye pearls.  “Where’s the entrance to the exit?”

For thousands of years mankind has been searching for the exit.  We long for a finish to the suffering we so blatantly foist upon each other.  Modern day Syria is just one of many horrors in the history of man’s intolerance of others who are different than they.  Diplomats fly back and forth and meet in highly orchestrated conferences seeking an entrance to the exit.  There doesn’t yet seem to be an exit sign over that door.  II Kings 6:8 says, “Then the king of Syria warred against Israel.”  That was about 3,000 years ago.  So what else isn’t new, except this round is Syria against Syria?

However, it isn’t hopeless.  2000 years ago Jesus said, “I am the door; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture.”  There is an entrance to the exit!   And what is on the other side of the exit is an eternity of peace, prosperity and growth.  God has not abandoned us. The exit is there and the exit is an entrance and its name is Jesus.  In John 5:24 He said, “Whoever hears my word and believes Him who sent me has eternal life and . . . has crossed over from death to life.”

“I am strong to the finich…Cause I eats me spinach.”  Popeye

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 7, 2016

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

A Word Is Worth a Thousand Pictures

We have all heard the expression that a picture is worth a thousand words.  It is also true that a word is worth a thousand pictures.  Think the word flower and our brains can produce pictures of roses, glads, mums, daisies or whatever is our favorite.  Before there was television we sat around a radio big enough to be a piece of furniture.  In the evenings we heard words and our brains filled with magnificent pictures of Fibber McGee opening his closet and we saw tons of stuff cascading out into the room.   If someone says, “Hi ho, Silver” our minds see a beautiful white stallion rearing up on his back legs ridden by a man wearing a black mask.  (If you are old enough.)

Words are pictures of ideas.  If someone says the words that are our names, those who hear will each think of their unique idea of who we are.  Our children will think of mom or dad.  Our siblings will think of a brother or a sister.  Our friends will think of who knows what.  If I say the word, “Jesus” each of us instantly creates a picture filled with ideas we have formed regarding who and what Jesus is.

What if when our name is mentioned others would think of Jesus?  Now that would be something special.  I once had a man tell me how disappointed he was to actually meet me.  He had listened to audio tapes of a series of sermons I had preached at a college.  He told me he had envisioned someone tall and handsome.  Well, sorry about that.  As Popeye once said, “I is what I is.”  But, maybe, just maybe, after people get to know us they will think of Jesus.  That would be grand.

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 6, 2016

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

 

UnLabor

Labor Day 2013 is part of history.  How interesting that we celebrate it by not laboring.  It is a day of rest, recreation and for many lots of driving.  Lest we somehow feel guilty about not working we should remember that God approves of us resting and taking time off work.  He even built into each week one special day and told us not to work on that special day.  One of the most interesting uses of that special day is found in Hebrews 4.  “There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his.”

The writer of Hebrews uses the Sabbath of the fourth commandment as a symbol of our rest from works designed to earn salvation.  There is so much anxiety generated when we try to make sure we have enough obedience credited to our account so we can merit salvation.  I know people who daily fret and worry that there is one small sin that will keep them out of God’s Kingdom.  It is debilitating to be so focused on ourselves.

However, if we instead focus on the gift of God and His loving grace, if we instead think about Jesus, the stress melts away and we enter into a rest from labor.  “A life in Christ is a life of restfulness.”  It is ironic that some people turn this Sabbath symbol of rest into another work making the Sabbath a burden to bear instead of its intended use, which is just the opposite.  One of the joys of salvation is not having to worry about it.  All we need do is trust Him.  He always keeps His promises.

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 3, 2013

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

The Scent of Freshly Mown Hay

There is hardly anything in the whole world that smells better than a field of freshly mown hay.  It has its own intoxication.  It can’t be said that it smells like anything else because it doesn’t. It is uniquely wonderful.  It is not even the same as the fresh smell of a newly mown lawn.  One of the disadvantages of modern cars with air-conditioning is you seldom catch that wonderful scent as you drive along the countryside with the windows all sealed shut.

It is no wonder Jesus so often spoke of harvesting.  An example is found in Matthew 9:37-38.  It says, “Then saith he unto his disciples, the harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest that he will send forth laborers into his harvest.

As a symbol of the final gathering of God’s children, the harvest is also a joyous, exhilarating event.

Written by Roger Bothwell on August 2, 2000\

PO Box 124, St. Helena, Ca 94574

rogerbothwell.org

A Quintessential Maine Morning

I awoke this morning and moved to a rocking chair on a cabin porch in western Maine.  The rising sun must have still been having a difficult time rousing because it was still wearing a blanket of mist rising off one of the world’s most beautiful lakes.   A loon was calling to the sun announcing it was time to shine. Ever so slowly the mist vanished as the sun lit up the rippled water with an exquisite spread of diamonds laid out at my feet.  Backlit pines laced the shore.  L. L. Bean should have been taking pictures for its next catalog.  Alas, though, it was missing a moose. It was quintessential Maine.

Quintessential is a good word.  Every once in a while we need a five dollar word to replace a cheapie word like typical.  This wasn’t typical.  It was quintessential and if I had a better vocabulary I would use a ten dollar word to replace quintessential.  Maybe I should use the word archetypal.  That’s a seven dollar word.  But then again, I like the sound of quintessential.

I was thinking about how difficult it would be to be a quintessential Christian.  The word means the purest or most perfect example of something.  I have met some people along life’s journey who seemed to almost fit the description, but upon close observation, well, they just didn’t quite fit the bill.  That’s what is exciting about Jesus.  His life, His sacrifice and His love more than cover our feeble efforts.  “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”  Hebrews 4:15.  His perfection is our perfection.

Written by Roger Bothwell on Sept.  5, 2016

PO Box 124, St. Helena, Ca 94574

rogerbothwell.org

Fruit Salad

On the third day God said, “Let’s make something special for Adam and Eve. Let’s make it round, big and green on the outside.  Let’s surprise them by making it bright red on the inside with big black seeds they can spit at each other.”  And so God made watermelons.  It didn’t take Adam long to learn that they were especially good if he stored them in a nice cool spring before cutting them open.  Warm Eden afternoons were the perfect time to savor the crispy, crunchy flesh that oozed with delight.  Eve learned that she could cube them and mix them with strawberries, blueberries and cubes of muskmelons and mangoes. Eating in Eden was a delight.

Eating in Massachusetts on a warm August afternoon can replicate an afternoon in Eden.  It’s true we have to fly the mangoes in from the south but we have all the other goodies home grown.   This afternoon watermelon slices filled me with childhood memories of going to the supermarket and discovering a small mountain of melons.  There was a large knife and customers were welcome to plug the melon and taste before buying.  If it wasn’t any good you tossed it aside and plugged another one. Not only would that never happen anymore because of the cost but the local health department would have a fit.  Young people today aren’t too sure I am telling the truth about this.  It seems so strange.

How I wish everyone one on earth could sit and savor God’s great blessings. But alas we see pictures of hungry children in refugee camps hiding from the ravages of war.  The ones in the refugee camps are some of the fortunate ones. God’s blessings are not meant just for us.  We must be thankful for such good things.

Written by Roger Bothwell on August 12, 2013

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

Primetime

It’s September and our hostas have started to turn brown.  They are much like us graying.  They start browning on the edges and work toward the center. Hostas are wonderful plants.  They thrive in the sun or shade and come in a rainbow of color choices.  Since we have lots of shade we especially like them.  Like us they have a prime time for blooming and then they mature into old age.

I wonder when is primetime for us.  Is it when we are in our twenties and starting a career, a marriage and parenthood?  Could it be our thirties when we are raising children?  Could it be later when we get to be grandparents and see the fruit of our parenting?  How about even later when we are wising up and able to put life’s events into perspective? Upon reflection I am beginning to think it is possible for us to have one very long primetime or several primetimes, one right after the other, depending upon our ability to capitalize on the moment.

When was primetime for Jesus?  Could it have been in Nazareth when He was part of a small community and adding love to that little burg?  Or was it His ministry when He was healing and telling everyone about His (our) heavenly Father?  Or was primetime Gethsemane and Calvary?  I am tempted to think it was the latter and yet I think each stage of His life was prime just as it should be for us.  If we use each day to grow or to better the lives of those around us I can’t think of anything more prime.  Often old people sit around and talk about “when.”  That’s not prime.  Now is prime.

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 2, 2013

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

Just a Tad of Skunk Power

We’ve had an interesting twenty-four hours.  It all began late last evening when I opened our back door.  With incredible power our one hundred pound lab exploded past me out onto the patio.  There was a flurry of motion involving a ten pound skunk trying to figure out what direction to unload.  Suddenly the air filled with a cloud of you know what.  Even though the dog was in the midst of it all she did not (we are so thankful) receive a direct hit.

Do you remember Matthew 16:16 where Jesus warned His disciples about the leaven of the Pharisees?  It takes such a tiny amount to change everything.   Our environment all night and day was changed by just a tad of skunk power.

Over and over again I see the leaven of the Pharisees attacking the Gospel.  I hear people say, “Yes, of course we are saved by grace.”   Then comes the leaven that stinks like a skunk.  “But.”  It is that word “But” and what follows. They have to add some tiny stipulation.  It is almost as if they are afraid someone is going to get away with something they didn’t.  The Gospel has incredible power to save and we must be on guard not to let anything steal away its effectiveness.  There are no specials on grace. 2015 isn’t some special time when extra sins can be forgiven.  Grace is lavished upon us any time we are in need.  Ephesians 1:7 says, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.”

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 8, 2015

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org

 

Our Writing Coach

I’m finishing up a most interesting biography of the Wright brothers and I am very impressed with the extraordinary amount of work and risk of life itself that went into their amazing feat, which had defied so many others who had tried.   Many biographies are real snoozers while this one is a page turner.

I imagine that most of us think a biography of our lives would be very interesting, while an unfortunate few might think otherwise about themselves. All of us are authors.  Each of us, even though we never put pen to paper, are busy authoring an autobiography.  We are a walking collection of experiences and memories, good and bad.

The joy of writing an autobiography is our power of choice as to which stories about ourselves we wish to remember or share.  I know some people seem to think because they have given their lives to God that they are no longer in charge.  They think they have stopped writing an autobiography and that God is writing a biography for them.  So often they speak of some decision they have made and they say God told them to do such and such.  What is nice about this is they have ceased to be responsible for what they do.  However it turns out, they can blame God.  If it is a good outcome they rejoice and are thankful.  If the results are not so good they say God is trying to teach them something.

I believe God gave us a mind and the freedom to use that mind. I believe each of us is writing a autobiography. God is not the author of our lives but He is an excellent writing coach

Written by Roger Bothwell on August 13, 2015

PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574

rogerbothwell.org